Heaven Immortalized
by ShadeAngel
Summary: 3+4 fluff. Trowa's found himself completely obsessed with a painting. In love, actually, with the blonde figure in the painting. Slight 1+2 included


Heaven Immortalized

Disclaimer: Ummmmm….. I don't own GW or any of the bishies, merely borrowing them for a while. Don't sue me! I don't have any money at the moment. 

Warning: Shounen ai 3+4 fluff, a little 1+2, AU.

~~~

Trowa Barton sat on the edge of a small, cushioned bench, staring up at a painting as tacky elevator music played in the background. He visited this same spot every day and this precise time, had been for the past year almost. He was so predictable to people who worked in the small gallery could set their watches by him.

He'd sit there, day after day, just staring at that same painting as he snacked on his small lunch. The expression on his face was always the same; wistful and full of longing. The art director just didn't have the heart to remove or even place the painting elsewhere. Mr. Barton had been a consistent visitor since the gallery had opened and she thought it was the least she could do. He'd even bought a painting or two. Had tried to buy this one in fact, but had been disappointed to discover it wasn't for sale.

One of the security guards watched the young man, his eyes sad, though his expression did not change. Trowa seemed much to young to be wasting his days staring at a painting. He could be out meeting people or becoming successful.

There was a tap on his shoulder and her turned to look into violet blue eyes. "He there again today?" The other man asked.

He nodded and let his gaze go back to the figure sitting on the bench. "Like clockwork. Sometimes I wish he'd never come back."

"And sometimes I wish I'd sold him the painting," his companion said with a hint of regret. "Do ya think I should offer it to him, Heero?"

The Japanese man shrugged. "It could make things worse, Duo. I mean, there are only so many hours the gallery's open. Can you imagine if he could sit and stare at the painting in his own living room? He may never leave his home again."

Duo nodded. "You're right. You always are."

They lapsed into silence as Trowa packed his things into his satchel and headed back towards the entrance. Neither doubted that the young man would be back the following day.

"Heya Trowa! Dinner'll be ready in a minute!" 

Trowa walked into his small apartment and pocked his head inside the kitchen. "I should never have given you a key."

The woman standing over the stove shrugged. "If you would either learn how to cook or at least eat somewhere healthy I wouldn't need the key."

The brunette huffed at his sister and dropped his jacket on the back of a chair. It had been another long day. His boss wanted the reports in the next day and he'd barely started it before lunch hour. All this paper work was so tedious and Trowa sometimes felt like a caged animal. He'd much rather be doing something physically challenging than sitting at a computer and typing all day. He had to wonder at his choice of employment. 

Catherine set out his dinner and grabbed her purse from the table. Trowa frowned at her. "Aren't you going to have any?"

The auburn haired woman shook her head. "I have to be back at the diner in a couple minutes. Gina's covering for me, but only until her shift ends."

"You really didn't have to this. I never did. I would have figured out something."

"I'm your sister, Trowa, I'm allowed to worry. And we both know you wouldn't eat if I didn't make you. These things just seem to leave your mind."

"I do eat," Trowa protested. "Everyday I take a lunch down town."

"If _that's what you call a lunch," Catherine muttered as she put on her jacket. "I'm talking about a good meal. Not a sandwich and a bottle of water." Her blue eyes softened. "You've been like this since mum and dad died. You really have to get on with your life, Trowa. It's been three years now."_

Trowa averted his eyes. If his sister knew the real reason for his depression.... Well, it wouldn't be a very nice conversation.

"I'll be fine, Cathy," he told her. "Just go to work. I know how much you need the pay."

The older woman hesitated before nodding and heading out the door. "Remember to eat," she called behind her.

Trowa sighed as the door closed behind her. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his sisters efforts, just that he didn't want to be pulled out of the slump he'd fallen into over the last year. That would mean never going back to the gallery. Never seeing that painting again. Never seeing _him again. _

He'd been visiting the gallery since it opened two years ago, but at first he'd only stopped in about once a week. After the Maxwell painting had been put up, that had changed. He'd tried desperately to purchase it, but the artist refused to sell, so instead he visited every day, always with the fear that one day it would be gone.

He couldn't understand why he was so obsessed with this painting, or rather, the subject. Yes, it was a beautiful work of art, but then again, all of Maxwell's pieces were. One could read the mans passion in every brush stroke, the emotion he had put into his work. It was all like nothing he'd ever seen before.

But this one painting had caught Trowa's eye. The blonde man, standing in a sunny glen, face held up to the sky and showing the most rapturous expression... Trowa could only guess at the mans eye colour, but no doubt they would be a beautiful hue, rivaling the magnificence of all others. The slight figure's creamy arms were flung out like he was about to take flight. Dressed in white drapery that could only have been inspired by the Greeks, he made one fine God. 

Trowa had memorized every detail of the young man. It had become like an obsession. No one, not since he'd laid eyes on the blonde, had been able to strike at Trowa's heart. He'd fallen, and fallen hard. For someone who didn't exist, someone who had been made up in an artists imagination.

How was it that someone could paint such perfection? How could one possible fathom such beauty and then put it on canvas? It just didn't seem possible, but there was the proof. And the title: _Heaven Immortalized. The young man would be heaven if only Trowa could have him, meet him, just touch him once. If he could have that, he would die a very happy man._

Violet and cobalt watched the door tensely as Trowa came in again the next day. They had known the young man would be here, he always was, but today he'd been five minutes late. This had been cause for them to worry.

Trowa couldn't not show up. Any other day would be fine, but today they had schemed. Today they'd see if what they had guessed was right.

Duo stepped out of the shadows as the young man headed towards the room housing his painting and walked towards him.

"Hello Mr. Barton," he called cheerfully. 

Trowa stopped, started, as he turned green eyes towards the longhaired man. "... Hello...."

Duo chuckled as he saw the confusion on the other mans face. "That's right. I've never introduced myself to you, though everyone knows who you are." Grinning, he bowed theatrically. "Duo Maxwell, at your service."

Trowa's eyes widened with recognition. "You're the painter... You painted _Heaven Immortalized..."_

"Yup," Duo's grin widened. "With a little help of course." He turned towards Heero, who still had yet to come out of hiding. "He-ero you can cooome oouut now!"

The security guard stepped from the shadows to fix the artist with a glare. "Baka."

"Bite me Yuy," the brunette stuck his tongue out at the other man.

Heero arched his eyebrows. "Is that an invitation?"

Duo's grin turned decidedly wicked. "But of course."

Trowa started to shift uncomfortable, eyes going back and forth between security guard and artist. What was this and why had Maxwell stopped him on his way to see _him? _

"Sorry about that," Duo coughed delicately, violet eyes dancing. "Just thought I'd let ya know that I've decided to give the painting to charity. Ya know, one of those auctions."

"Wha..." Trowa's mind spun. The couldn't take him away. He'd go mad. Without the painting he'd go mad. Okay, so finding the painting had made him unstable, but losing it was worse. The thought of seeing it each day was the only thing keeping him going. It was the only reason he went to work or ate. Without it he'd have nothing.

"I know how much you life it, but dude, it's just mixed paint on some canvas. Even I know that and I created it," Duo placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's going to be removed latter this afternoon. You can still see it until than."

Trowa nodded and, as if in a daze, started towards the Maxwell exhibit.

"Do you think it'll work?" Duo slung his arm around the other mans waist.

"If it doesn't, we've just ruined that mans life," Heero muttered as he nuzzled thick chestnut hair.

Trowa had wanted to be alone for this last viewing of his painting, but as it happened there was another person in the room, sitting in the very spot he always did. He almost turned and left, but something about the other visitor stopped him.

It was a young man, only about twenty from what Trowa could see from behind him. His hair was a golden, a very familiar shade and his frame slight and delicate, almost feminine. This, too, was familiar.

Suddenly, sensing his presence, the blonde turned to look at him. Trowa just about dropped where he stood. This was the God-like figure from the painting, same face, same hair, even the same cute little nose. But the eyes, the eyes were new. They were blue with just a hint of green, the kind that changed according to ones feelings. They blinked a few times before the figure scrambled to his feet, a slight flush staining his cheeks. 

"I'm sorry," his voice was soft, but clear. "You must be one of the regulars. I should be going anyways."

"No!" Trowa called before he could stop himself. "No, it's alright. I come here often enough to have memorized it. The painting, though, it's you."

The colour darkened as the young man nodded and tried to hide his blush behind his longish bangs. " Duo had been after me to pose for him since we were teenagers. I guess I finally caved about two years ago. I think it's kind of silly."

"Not at all," Trowa smiled as he stepped up to look at the painting again. "You do make a wonderful figure in those Greek robes."

"He went a bit far if you ask me. He made me all angelic. Or at least that was what he was trying to do, with me reaching for the heavens and all."

The brunette turned to the other man, smile still in place. "I think it's beautiful. Suits you, though meeting you in person is a little more interesting than staring at a painting."

The blonde looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Mr..."

"Barton, Trowa Barton."

"Nice to meet you Trowa. I'm Quatre Winner."

Trowa recognized the name. He worked for one of the small businesses connected to the Winner Corporation. It was hard to believe that this small blonde-haired man was the head of a multi-billion dollar corporation.

"Would you...."

"I was won-"

They both laughed as they started to speak at the same time. "You first," Quatre said, grinning.

"Would you like to go get some coffee? I mean if you're not busy or anything..."

"I was about to ask the same thing."

The two headed out of the gallery, neither noticing two watchful pairs of eyes. 

~The end~

Shade: Didn't turn out quite as I'd planned it, but nothing ever seems to any more. I'm not very good with 3x4, not like I am with 1x2. Bah... 

Merry Christmas, anyways. Only a few more days left. *eyes what she knows is a DVD player that has been marked with her name* Let's hope for some anime to go along with it!


End file.
